The Unexpected Landscape of Desire: How Strip Club Facades Reveal America’s Shifting Values
Over 6,000 miles and nearly 150 establishments later, French photographer François Prost’s project, “Gentlemen’s Club,” isn’t about what happens inside strip clubs. It’s about what their very existence—and increasingly brazen displays—reveal about the American psyche. Prost’s work, documented in a newly released book and upcoming Tokyo exhibition, offers a surprisingly insightful lens through which to view evolving attitudes towards sex, commerce, and the normalization of desire in the United States.
Beyond the Velvet Rope: A Photographic Study of American Culture
Prost’s deliberate focus on facades—the brightly colored walls, suggestive silhouettes, and often-humorous signage—is key. He isn’t interested in voyeurism or judgment. Instead, he treats these buildings as architectural artifacts, reflecting the cultural landscape in which they exist. This approach allows for an objective examination of how sexuality is marketed and integrated into the everyday American environment. As Prost notes, unlike in Europe, American strip clubs often demand to be seen, a stark contrast he initially observed in his previous series, “After Party,” documenting French nightclubs.
The Dichotomy of the Bible Belt
The photographer’s journey revealed a particularly fascinating paradox: the prevalence of strip clubs in socially conservative areas, specifically along the “Bible Belt.” This juxtaposition—the open display of sexuality within communities often characterized by strict moral codes—highlights a complex relationship with desire and a willingness to compartmentalize beliefs. It’s a visual representation of the tension between public morality and private indulgence. This phenomenon isn’t simply about hypocrisy; it suggests a deeper cultural negotiation around sexuality and its place in American life.
From Pink Pussycat to Steakhouse: The Evolution of the Business Model
Prost’s observations extend beyond mere location. He notes a growing trend of strip clubs integrating into mainstream commerce. The example of Las Vegas establishments doubling as restaurants—offering happy hour deals and catering to specific demographics like truck drivers—is particularly telling. This blurring of lines, and even the emergence of vegan options at some clubs (as reported by Prost’s sources in Portland), demonstrates a deliberate effort to normalize and broaden the appeal of these businesses. This integration isn’t accidental; it’s a strategic response to changing social norms and a desire to tap into wider consumer bases.
The Commodification of Desire and the Absent Female Form
The book’s title, “Gentlemen’s Club,” itself is a recurring phrase on the signs Prost photographed, subtly highlighting the commodification of women. The facades often present women as objects of consumption, through food-themed names and suggestive imagery. Yet, crucially, the women themselves are absent from Prost’s photographs. This deliberate omission forces viewers to confront the marketing of desire without the presence of the individuals being marketed. It’s a powerful commentary on the objectification of women and the construction of fantasy. This concept aligns with broader discussions around the representation of women in media and advertising, as explored in research by organizations like the UN Women.
Looking Ahead: The Future of “Open Secrets”
Prost’s next project, focusing on Japan’s “love hotels,” suggests a continuing interest in exploring the intersection of sexuality, culture, and hidden spaces. However, his work with American strip clubs reveals a uniquely American phenomenon: a willingness to openly display—and even integrate—elements of the sex industry into the mainstream. This trend isn’t likely to reverse. As societal attitudes towards sex continue to evolve, we can expect to see further blurring of lines between entertainment, commerce, and desire. The normalization of these spaces, coupled with innovative business models, suggests a future where the “open secret” becomes increasingly visible and accepted.
What does this increasing normalization mean for broader cultural conversations around consent, representation, and the objectification of women? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
